


Sparks Fly

by tripleleaf



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-09-19 13:39:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17002695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tripleleaf/pseuds/tripleleaf
Summary: Roger himself was not surprised at all, perhaps he had fallen for Brian the moment he saw Brian from behind the drum kit at the Smile audition years ago, only he had not realized it until now.





	1. More Than Friends

**Author's Note:**

> Reposting from Tumblr: nonsensical fluff. Uh, that's about it.

One evening, Roger was practicing on his drum kit when Brian came home from Imperial, an umbrella in hand, his curly mop of hair flat and dripping wet. 

“It’s been raining?” Roger called from the living room. “I couldn’t tell." 

"Your tom is louder than any thunder, Rog! Yeah, these are the days it never rains but it pours. Freddie’s not back yet?” He took off his wet coat and placed it on the hanger. 

“No, I guess he’s staying with his friend tonight. And John went back to Leicester to visit his parents this morning, so it’s just you and me." 

"Alright then. I really must get cleaned up,” Brian said and headed straight for the shower. Half an hour later, after Brian had fixed them some SPAM and baked beans for dinner, they ate together at the living room table. Roger was eating and flipping through an old issue of ‘Sounds’ while next to him, Brian dried his wet hair with a towel. He ran his fingers through his hair and ruffled them to make them fluffy, which was what he did all the time. He was wearing a pink sweater and grey track pants, and Roger couldn’t help thinking he looked like a giant bunny. 

Roger was halfway through a John Bonham interview when he heard a loud crash. Startled by the sound in the quiet of the flat, he looked up to see Brian had dropped his fork onto his plate and already fallen asleep – he must have been exhausted, the coursework for Ph.D. students was certainly very intensive. Roger gingerly picked up the half-eaten dish from his lap and placed it on the table. Brian stirred, muttered something in his sleep and then leaned onto Roger, his head resting on Roger’s shoulder. Roger held his breath as Brian’s body pressed to his, a few curls tickling his face. He didn’t have the heart to wake Brian up - the poor man needed the sleep - and so he figured he was stuck on the sofa for the entire night. He finished reading Bonham’s interview and put the papers down, having read every single bit of news in the paper (twice, actually). The flat was quiet and dark. At least Roger didn’t need to pee, he could act as Brian’s pillow until morning. 

In the uncharacteristic peace of the flat, Roger closed his eyes. He could still feel Brian’s soft curls on his cheek. His curly hair looked really nice, and Roger suddenly wondered about the texture of it. He reached out his left hand and tentatively touched a small light curl. It was, as expected, very soft and smooth and fluffy, Roger couldn’t think of any new words to describe it, but it felt good. After checking to see that Brian was indeed in a deep sleep, he plunged his hand straight into the mass of curls. Ah. Sensory overload. He was surrounded by fluffiness, for a moment it was hard for him to breathe, it was satisfying beyond belief. He withdrew his fingers and closed his eyes again. 

It was all quiet and he could hear the pitter-patter of rain on the window and Brian’s soft breathing. Brian was a good source of heat to combat the night chill in the living room. It was nice to be curling up with him on the sofa, and Roger wondered why women didn’t go after him as much as the other members - perhaps it was because of his reserved personality. Roger himself was some sort of a girl magnet. No serious relationships though, he only went out with girls for casual sex (a man had to satisfy his own needs, after all!). The truth is, he had never developed any kind of romantic feelings for any of his girlfriends. Perhaps he liked men, he knew Freddie also liked men, but it was no big deal to him whatsoever. He was very open-minded about this sort of thing, he’d go out with literally anyone he fancied. A thought crossed his mind: maybe Brian liked men too. That could explain a number of things: his indifferent attitude towards the pretty girls they met at parties, his close friendship with a schoolmate called Chrissie who was obviously head over heels for him. An interesting theory. 

Roger shifted his shoulder a bit to ease the weight, then leaned back into the sofa. Now that he thought about it, Brian was really attractive. His tall, lean body was complimented by his choice of clothes, like slim-fitting t-shirts and sweaters and skinny jeans that set his impossibly long legs to perfection. Brian also wore shirts with the top buttons undone, showing his flat chest and defined collarbone, sometimes even a peek of his ribs. The long dark curly hair was a trademark of his, Roger believed no one else could rock that hairstyle as Brian did. He had a handsome face - square jaw, a long, straight nose, graceful eyebrows, and bright hazel eyes. His hands were beautiful, long and slender fingers that were so fast and playful on steel guitar strings. And he looked lovely when he smiled, particularly because of his tiny sharp fangs (Roger did notice people’s teeth, he had studied teeth for a year, after all). Hmmm, what else… He smelled very nice, Roger sniffed, like English Breakfast tea with cream, and a bit like paper, wood and bookshelf dust. 

Wait, Roger stopped himself. What on earth was he thinking about? He shouldn’t be having such thoughts about his friend - a wave of guilt suddenly washed over him. It went away a moment later, replaced by a new thought: who said Brian had to be his friend? He looked at Brian and imagined them being more than friends. Now that was interesting. He tried to recall a quiz he had read in one of his sister’s teen magazines years ago back home, titled “More Than Friends: Identifying Your Feelings”. Roger had a good memory, and he had read that article very carefully, hoping that one day it could help him with his love life. Finally, it was time to try it out. 

First question: “You think about them all the time.” Well, not all the time, but he just did. And sometimes during the day, he did wonder what Brian was doing, whether he would be back to make dinner because Roger couldn’t cook for the life of him. 

Next one: “You get jealous.” Not really, he had never envied Chrissie; in fact, he rather liked her. A smart, pretty woman she was, it was obvious that Brian didn’t reciprocate her feelings for him, and Roger had felt very bad for her. To be honest, it was Brian’s ex-flatmate Tim Staffell that he disliked. Tim was teasing Brian all the time, pulling Brian aside a lot to tell him side jokes. Back when they together formed a band called ‘Smile’, Roger had always wanted to kick Tim out of the way during band practice or when they hung out afterward. He hated it whenever Tim had his hands or his eyes on Brian. Surely that could count as jealousy?

Third question: “You are attracted to them, not necessarily sexually.” This was true. He had always found Brian handsome, although he might not have been aware of it. 

Final question: “You don’t think it’s okay to keep being friends anymore because of your feelings.” Spot on. 

According to the quiz, he had developed feelings for his friend and was ready to be More Than Friends with this person. He sighed. What would this lovely curly-haired person think about it? Roger himself was not surprised at all, perhaps he had fallen for Brian the moment he saw Brian from behind the drum kit at the Smile audition years ago, only he had not realized it until now. He finally decided that he would give himself some time for this to sink in, and then he could consult Freddie - for what it’s worth Freddie was the best love expert he had ever known. 

A glance at the clock informed him that it was 3:55 in the morning. He had been awake for hours thinking, and now he was beginning to feel drowsy. Brian was snoring softly beside him. Roger ran his fingers through Brian’s hair again, and then closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.


	2. From Me To You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> with love, from me to you :D

“I think I- I might, well, have feelings for Brian." 

"What?” John asked. “What did you just say?" 

"Yeah, you heard me,” Roger said sheepishly. “I really like Brian, I don’t know… I’d like us to be more than friends." 

John looked thoughtful. "I’m not surprised, really, you two have always been close. You might want to be careful about this, he really cares about you and is very fond of you, but I’m not sure if it’s in that way. Hmm, have you told Freddie?" 

"No, not yet. I’m so clueless about this, really. We’re living under the bloody same roof, and every time I go past Brian, it’s harder and harder to pretend that everything’s normal. I just want to pin him down and kiss him, if you know what I mean." 

"No need to get so graphic, I get you. Let’s go find Freddie and ask him, then.”

They found Freddie in his room, working on a sketch of Paul McCartney. After he had heard Roger’s confession, he burst out laughing. “Our lovely little drummer boy is in love! Hopelessly in love. Well, there’s nothing you can do about it but wait and let it burn you up inside." 

Roger shook his head, he couldn’t take it anymore. He had to tell Brian, somehow, that he was in love with him, with his soothing voice and gentle manners and pretty, pretty face. John didn’t think it was a good idea, however.

“You’ll end up scaring him. If you want to let him know, do it one step at a time. How about you start with small gestures at first? Be nice to him, give him a present, for example. That should keep him thinking." 

"That would take forever, it’s– it’s killing me! When I look at him, I just want to tell him and get it over with." 

"That’s not how it’s done! If you’re going to tell him, you have to be well-prepared to make it special. John’s right, you could start giving him stuff, just don’t be too obvious." 

John nodded. "In fact, you should go shopping right now for something to give him before he’s back from school." 

"I’m on it,” Roger grabbed his coat and headed for the door, relieved to finally have something to do. 

Brian came home at half-past six, looking very tired after another long day at the laboratory. He greeted Freddie and John (Roger was hiding in the kitchen) and headed straight for his room. Moments later, he emerged with the small package in his hands. “Guys, what’s this? Someone put it on my desk." 

"No idea,” John said. “It’s obviously for you, why don’t you open it?" 

"No. It’s too risky, John. It might be an inconspicuous package, but who knows what’s inside? Where’s Roger, by the way? Maybe it was him who put it in there." 

"I don’t think so. He’s been with us all day, watching Coronation Street on the telly. ROGER!” Freddie bellowed. “Come here!" 

Having been summoned from his hiding place, Roger had no choice but to go outside, hoping that Freddie could maneuver this for him. "What do you want? Oh, hi, Brian." 

"Hi, Rog, you don’t happen to know what this package is, do you? I found it on my desk." 

"Uh, no,” he lied. “It could be from an admirer of yours? Fans send us stuff all the time." 

"But all those goods go to the fan club to be checked, and no one knows our address, anyway. God, maybe someone has been following us and even managed to sneak in here. I’ll throw this away and report to the police." 

"That’s absurd, Bri! You’re just paranoid. Give me the package, let me take a look." 

"Freddie, no! It could be dangerous. We could keep it as evidence for the report. But no one’s opening it before it’s checked by the police." 

Freddie rolled his eyes and snatched the package from Brian’s hands. John ran to the kitchen to get a pair of scissors, and Roger found himself alone with a very angry Brian. 

"How can they be so careless? This really is no joke, Roger, a stalker must be reported before they do us any harm.” Roger nodded embarrassedly as the wrapper was torn and the box lid slit. 

Freddie took a look inside and smirked, “You might want to see this, Brian.”

Brian opened the small box to see a neatly folded colorful scarf, a penguin tie pin, and an envelope. He seemed surprised but no longer suspicious. Roger held his breath as Brian examined the content - first he felt the soft texture of the woolen scarf, then picked up the penguin pin for a closer look, and finally, he tore the envelope open carefully with his beautiful long fingers. Inside was a note that Roger had had the sales clerk write for him before she wrapped the package. It read: “I love you, my dear penguin.” Brian scanned the note and then tucked it into the envelope. A smile spread across his face. “I still want to know who’s behind this. So I can say thank you. It’s lovely, really." 

John smirked, "So much for your stalker theory." 

\--

"Congratulations,” Freddie said a few days later when Roger was doing the dishes. 

“On what?" 

"Your little achievement, of course. He’s been wearing that pin on every shirt, and he takes the scarf whenever he goes outside. My God, what a hideous scarf. I’m disappointed in your taste, Roger." 

He shrugged. "I thought he’d like it. It’s very soft and comfortable, Brian was never one to care too much about style." 

"Yeah, well. You’re serious about this, aren’t you? I really don’t want any of you to get broken-hearted. You’ll mess up our fucking band, and I just can’t bear to see two grown men moping around the flat all day." 

“Freddie, I’m dead serious about this. I’m In Love With My Car was a joke, but I’m In Love With Brian May isn’t,” he declared. A bit too dramatically, he thought as soon as he'd said it.

"Okay, I’m just checking. John and I, we need to be sure before we really get involved,“ Freddie winked. "We’ll get our two lovebirds together in no time.”

"Wait, what do you mean ‘get involved’? Don’t tease me or anything in front of him! I’ll kill you, I swear!“ He threw up his hands in frustration, sending dishwater and soap flying all over the countertop. 

"Don’t worry. See how we covered for you on Friday when you gave him the present? We’ll keep doing that until he finally realizes that you are his secret admirer. It’s going to be so much fun – stop giving me that look, Roger!”


	3. Sweet Lady Stay Sweet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like some kind of cheese.

Chapter 3: Sweet Lady Stay Sweet 

Three weeks later, Roger was going shopping when he came across a large confectionary store. His first present had been a huge success, now it was time for the second. He wondered how many more secret presents he could send Brian before he went broke. Probably ten? Too many and Brian would start to get some strange ideas (“What if an alien is trying to lure me???”) - he tended to overthink with that big brain of his. Something sugary would indeed make a very sweet present, Roger figured. 

As he entered the store, he was overwhelmed by the warm, pleasant smell of sweets, it was like his mother’s pantry back home. Jars of candies, jam and chocolates lined the huge shelves. Women were bustling around, filling their basket to the brim. Roger felt a bit out of place - he didn’t even know what he was looking for in here. What would Brian like? 

“Hello, can I help you? Are you looking for something in particular?“ 

Roger smiled awkwardly. "Uh, I’m looking for… a present? For my, um, friend." 

"Sure, girls really love sweets. What a romantic gesture from you! Well, we’ve got some luxury assorted chocolates, would you like to take a look?" 

"No, thanks,” Roger scratched his head. “I’ll be fine, I’ll just go look around a bit.” Chocolate boxes were cheesy as hell. He needed something impressive. Along the jam aisle, he caught sight of a pink jar labeled ‘grapefruit marmalade’. Bingo. Brian was a sucker for grapefruit. 

“Uhm, I’ll take this,” he handed the jar to the salesperson. 

She raised an eyebrow. “Is there anything else I can help you with? Gift-wrapping?" 

"Oh yeah, that’d be great, thanks. And could you write a note for me as well?”

“Sure, what’s your message?" 

Roger blushed. "Ummm. Let me think…" 

 

An hour later, he was on Imperial campus, where he had been to many times for band practice back in his student days. Brian must be in the lab so he wasn’t afraid of being seen. He found a tall, bookish bloke walking towards the Physics building, so he pulled up his coat collar, wrapped his scarf around half his face and approached him. "Hello, can do you me a favour?" 

"What do you want?” The young man asked cautiously. 

“I need to deliver something to Brian May at the Infrared Department. Do you know him?" 

"No, but I got a few friends there. I’ll pass it on for you." 

"Good, thank you,” Roger handed him the package. “I’m just, like, a delivery man so I don’t think they’ll let me in or anything. Ta." 

 

"Guys, look at this. I got another one,” Brian announced as soon as he got home. 

“Your creepy stalker? Have you reported it yet?” Freddie asked mockingly. 

“No, I want to open this one. Do you know where it was? On my desk at Imperial. Apparently, some bloke was asked to deliver it to me." 

"So no trace back to your stalker, then? That’s smart,” John chuckled. 

“Can you hand me that pair of scissors, Roger?" 

"Here you go,” Roger tried to keep a straight face. Brian carefully unwrapped the package, and his face lit up when he saw the jar. 

“Oh my God! This is so precious, look at this! Grapefruit jam, where did they get this thing? And there’s also a note." 

Freddie pursed his lips to stop himself from giggling as Brian read out loud. ”'Grapefruit is sour but you are sweet. Enjoy, my penguin.’ Why does this person keep calling me ‘penguin’?“ 

"Don’t you like it?” Roger blurted out. “I mean, I think that’s cute.” That was even worse, he wanted to slap himself. 

Brian blushed. “Yes, but… it’s a private nickname! Not many people know it." 

Freddie nudged Roger in the ribs. "What a lovely person, this fan. They chose all the right presents for Brian! I’m so sad I don’t have a fan like this one.” Then he pulled John up and made up some lame excuse, “We’ll go get some coffee.”

Brian opened the jar, dipped his fingers in then licked the thick, jelly-like jam off his fingertips. There was glossy jam on his lips and his chin and Roger went 'oh shit’ in his mind for a moment because that was both hot and also very childlike and cute. Then Brian turned around and caught Roger staring at him. Oh shit oh shit oh shit. 

“Do you want to taste it? Mmmm, it’s so good. I’ll get a spoon for you?" 

"No, no thanks, it’s your present and I don’t even like grapefruit. Like, what’s good about it?" 

"It’s the best! How dare you. Take this.” Brian playfully smeared the jam onto his left cheek and grinned when he yelped in surprise. “And some more,” a piece of grapefruit on the tip of his nose. He bent over laughing and realized they hadn’t been fooling around like that in a while. It was nice to have fun with a friend, although in this case, he also happened to be in love with that friend too. 

“Oh God, I’m not going to waste any more jam on you. If you don’t like it, then at least can you keep the guys from eating it?” Brian wiped his hands onto his jeans and put the jar in the highest cupboard. He had stuffed the note into his pocket. “I wonder why you guys don’t get anything like this. Especially you, you’re supposed to be the girls’ favourite." 

Roger shrugged. "No idea. It could be a guy, you know.” Once again, he wanted to pinch himself. Stop being obvious!

“You’re right. Well, good night, Roger,” Brian disappeared into his room. Roger licked the jam off his cheek and winced at the sour taste. It didn’t matter, he thought, Brian was sweeter than a sack of sugar and now he would be up all night because of this sugar high.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't bear to read this thing through again before I post so... please pardon any spelling/grammar mistakes! Or just let me know and I'll fix it.


	4. Heart-Shaped Box

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys like Nirvana. Merry Christmas!

The grapefruit jam was consumed within three days. Roger was busy with his own studies and he ran out of ideas, anyway, so he decided to take a break from it for a while.

“You’ve been pretty quiet lately,” Freddie reminded him one day.

He went to a gift shop to see if there was anything interesting. He was disappointed. People these days had such bad taste in gifts. Jewelry, stuffed animals, ugly postcards, carved candles. No finesse whatsoever. The fine art of gift-giving had been forgotten, it seemed. But he was Roger Taylor, he could always come up with something.

He didn’t leave the shop empty-handed. Despite the sorry range of gift products sold there, he did manage to find a gift for Brian. Sort of. This was definitely the strangest gift he had ever given anyone. “I’m giving my own fucking heart away,” he thought. At the cashier, he once again requested the sales clerk to copy the note for him.

He mailed the box to their flat. It felt strange to be listing their own address as the recipient address. The people at the post office said it should take about three to five days for the mail to reach its destination. The countdown began; this time he didn’t even tell Freddie or John about it.

Friday night John went downstairs to get the mail and came back with a handful of letters: one from their manager Jim Beach reminding the band of their recording schedule, one from John’s parents, one from the official Queen fan club. “And this is for you,” John handed Brian the package. “Must be your secret admirer as usual.”

“Thank you,” Brian turned the package over. “Hmm, I think I’ll go back to my room. Good night, guys.”

As soon as Brian’s door was closed, John turned to Roger and raised an eyebrow. “Very sneaky.”

“I just don’t want anyone to see it. It’s so lame,” Roger shrugged. It was true, Freddie and John would totally laugh at him if Brian unwrapped the gift right in the living room, so he had asked a postman to write “OPEN IN PRIVATE” on the wrapper. He was glad that it had worked.

“He seems to be looking forward to your gifts? I mean, he isn’t surprised or wary anymore. He’s even quite excited. How long do you plan to keep this going?”

“Until I run out of money, maybe?” Roger laughed. “Well, perhaps in a year’s time. I don’t know for sure. It depends on how he responds to these as well.”

“It’s a real science, isn’t it?” John said thoughtfully. “A huge risk you’re taking here.”

“Not that huge. I’m still anonymous, remember?”

“Well, good luck with your quest. I hope he likes your present today.” John said goodnight and turned off the lights.

Roger sat alone on the sofa, staring at the faint strip of light from under Brian’s bedroom door. He was wondering if Brian had finished unpacking yet when the door actually opened and Brian poked his head outside. “Hey, Roger, you’re still up? Can you come to my room a bit? There’s something I want you to see.”

“Sure thing.” Roger slipped into slippers and tiptoed across the living room, his heart racing. This was the moment of truth.

He sat down on Brian’s bed and tried to ignore the red heart-shaped box on Brian’s desk under the light of the lamp. It was a beautiful box, the biggest and prettiest one he could find. “So, what is it?”

Brian turned the chair around to face him. “I got sent this package, you know, and there was this box inside. The thing is, it’s empty. The box is empty. What does it mean? Here, take a look.”

Roger accepted the box from Brian’s hands and pretended to study it very closely. It was covered in a deep red velvety material and was big enough he could wrap his arms around it. He had taped the note on the underside of the lid and Brian hadn’t seen it. The inside of the box was, intentionally, left empty. He tried to give the box a shake and then set it down.

“See, it’s so strange,” Brian frowned. “Could this be some kind of metaphor? This could be a box full of kisses or something, that kind of thing?” He looked seriously confused. “I don’t understand. And usually there’s a small note, but this time there isn’t any.”

Roger knew he should go and leave Brian to discover the note himself, but he couldn’t resist the urge to see Brian’s reaction. He scooted closer, took the box from Brian’s hands and turned the lid over. "I think I saw something here.”

“Oh, right! There  _is_  a note here.” Brian’s face lit up with excitement. He began to carefully peel off the tape with his nails to get the envelope. It was addressed, “To Penguin”. He straightened the folded piece of paper to read, a slight frown on his face. Roger didn’t ask to see it, it would be rude, and he already knew what was written inside anyway.

A few moments later, Brian was still silent, staring at the note. Roger rose from the bed and pretended to yawn. “It’s so late, I should get to bed now. Good night, Brian.”

Brian looked up from the box and smiled. “Thanks for helping me. Good night, Roger.”

He gently closed the door behind him, leaving Brian with the heart-shaped box. He felt like screaming. It was his heart, and Brian was holding it in his hands.


	5. Drive My Car

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter named after the Beatles song. Also one of my favorites.

“I got another parking ticket today,” Brian said fretfully. “Can any of you give me a ride to school tomorrow?”

“Again? That’s the fourth one this year, Bri,” John said between mouthfuls of clam chowder.

“I left the car there and ran into the library to return some books. I was just gone for five minutes! And the street was deserted, for God’s sake. Anyway, they towed it away and now I’m deprived of transportation.”

“Maybe the meter maid has got a crush on you, and is looking for excuses to tow your heart away,” Roger teased and inwardly grinned at his cleverness. He loved songs about cars in general. No one at the table seemed to see the humor in it, though. Freddie rolled his eyes and whispered to him, “You’re one to talk.” John almost choked on his chowder.

Brian was also unamused. “I’m serious, guys. Can you lend me your car or give me a ride? Public transportation is rather inconvenient, they’ll recognize me and it will be such a scene.”

John shook his head. “Sorry, I’m seeing Veronica in the morning.”

“And my car has a broken, uh, carburetor, right! So you can’t take mine either,” Freddie said quickly, then added, “On the other hand, Rog has a perfectly functioning car that is his second-most adored thing in the world.”

“I wonder what’s in first place,” John said under his breath, but it didn’t escape Roger’s ears, and he kicked John in the shins under the dining table.

“That’s great! Will you let me borrow your car, Roger? Just for the morning. If you’re not busy, of course.”

Freddie smiled mischievously, “He also happens to be available in the morning, isn’t he? Why don’t you drive Brian, dear?”

“I thought I had to do the hoovering around the house tomorrow? And the dishes,” Roger objected.

“No, darling, fortunately, you are relieved of your housework duties for tomorrow. Deaky will cover for you. What a convenient arrangement.”

“Wait, isn’t he seeing Veronica?” Brian questioned.

“Veronica will understand,” John said reassuringly, but Roger was fairly sure that he would be spending the entire morning laughing with Freddie and waiting until he came back to tease him about the private moments he had with Brian during the ride.

“Still, I can’t put Roger through so much trouble. Really, Rog, you can just stay at home and sleep. I promise I’ll be careful with your car, and it’s just for the morning, I’ll be back before lunch.”

Roger nodded, and the conversation was settled for five minutes as they all took large bites of pizza (vegetarian for Brian, extra cheesy for the others) and large sips of coke (Brian settled for still water). Then Freddie wiped his mouth with a napkin and brought it up again. “Come to think of it, Roger does have to run some errands tomorrow. He’ll have to get out of the house anyway.”

“What errands?” Roger asked warily, wondering what kind of excuses his pals will make up to set him up with Brian for what, a half-hour ride?

“Well, uhm, you can always come to pick up our stage outfits at the dry-cleaner! It happens to be rather near Imperial, I think.”

“Oh yes, go grocery shopping and pick up some cheese and bread, will you?” John chimed in. “For breakfast, you know. Cheese on toast. Classic.”

“Well, I can do it on my way ba-“

“Hush, Brian. It’s not your job. You will do it, won’t you, Roger?”

“Fine,” he relented. “Fine.” Brian smiled at him from across the table, and he accidentally smudged ketchup all over his cheek as the slice of pizza missed his mouth.

 

Roger was up at 6 sharp, which was too early an hour for him to function, but today he had to. He hastily brushed his teeth, get dressed and went into the kitchen. The cold morning air greeted him, and he felt very compelled to come back to the comfy single bed in his room. Brian was at the stove, frying vegan pancakes and humming a jolly little tune that Roger failed to recognize as he poured himself a cup of black coffee. He briefly considered adding milk and sugar but decided against it. The more horrendous the taste, the better it worked to keep him awake.

“Good morning. I must say, it’s been a while since I saw you up this early.”

Roger grunted in response. Back in his college days, he used to skip all lectures that took place before 9 in the morning. “I’d be sleeping anyway,” he had reasoned, “better do it in the comfort of my bed.” Brian had found it very amusing, although there was a hint of disapproval in his smile.

“Want some pancakes?” Brian now slid a plate in front of him and sat down next to him at the table. “New and improved recipe. I’m sure it’s been a while since you last had breakfast.”

“I do have breakfast! Skipping breakfast is not good at all. I’m aware of the consequences,” Roger said defensively.

“By definition, though, breakfast should be before 10. After that it’s called brunch. So you do eat, but it’s not breakfast, it’s brunch.”

“Okay, you win.” Roger poured honey all over his pancakes, while Brian had them plain. “Do you always eat your pancakes like that? Isn’t that boring?”

“Well, it can be better, but we’re out of jam, and I don’t know where to get hold of that grapefruit jam. Seriously, though, how do they know that it’s my favorite?”

“Who?” mumbled Roger.

“My secret admirer. I don’t know anything about them. I reckon they’re lovely, though. I wish I could return the affection, or at least the favor.”

“You don’t have to. You deserve it. And you don’t even know who they are,” he reminded Brian. This was definitely among the weirdest things he had ever done, he realized, discussing his anonymous declarations of love with the recipient of said affection. Weird didn’t even begin to cover it. It was awkward and thrilling and terrifying at the same time.

“They know so much about me. These things are not exactly public knowledge, are they?” Brian was persistent. “Maybe if I looked closely enough, I might find some clues as to who they are.”

There was no doubt about that, Brian was one of the smartest people he had ever known. There were certainly many clues, many traces he had not thought of erasing. He swallowed the panic rising in his throat, “Yeah, but maybe it’s better not to. They want to stay anonymous for now. Maybe… they need some more time. And they’ll reveal themselves when they’re ready.”

Brian looked at him. “You really think so?”

“Just… stop wondering and finish your pancakes, Bri. You’ll be late.” 

The drive took a bit longer than expected because of heavy traffic. Brian busied himself with the morning newspaper, while Roger busied himself with ideas for the next love note. They didn’t talk much, but the silence was comfortable. Roger knew Brian appreciated it as much as he did.

After dropping Brian off at the university, Roger headed to the confectionery shop he had visited a while ago to get more grapefruit jam. Then he went for a drive around his old neighborhood during their Smile days, until it was time to come back to pick Brian up.

When they got home they were welcomed by the sight of John and Freddie lounging on the couch with stupid grins on their faces. The house was not vacuumed, the dirty dishes were still piled up in the sink. “You slacked off,” Roger said in an accusing tone.

“Hello to you, too. Oh, where’s my cheese?”

“Yes, where are the clothes, Rog? What have you been doing?”

“The clothes are still being ironed, and the store is out of stock,” Roger replied sweetly, unfazed. “Sorry, folks.”

“But he found where the grapefruit jam is sold! He’s fantastic,” Brian interjected brightly. “Look! He got me like eight jars. Good stuff.” He then proceeded to the kitchen to put the jars on the top shelf of the cupboard, which was out of everyone’s reach but himself, all the while humming the happy tune that Roger still failed to recognize.

“Productive morning, huh?” Freddie smirked. “No need to thank us, dear. You know what, you’re exempted from your household duties until Brian gets his car back, and we’ve still got plenty of errands for you to run.”

 

In the following days, Freddie and John made sure to come up with excuses to send Roger out of the house every time Brian had to go to school. However, waking up early was just a once-in-a-while thing for Roger to accomplish. He would come into the kitchen in his pajamas and chewed on his pancakes drowsily as Brian consumed alarming amounts of sugary jam. Brian always offered to drive out of safety concerns (“Living is easy with eyes closed, but driving isn’t, Rog.”) and Roger would fall asleep in the front seat with his face pressed against the cool glass. Then he’d find a space to park the car and went back to sleep until Brian returned.

 

Roger woke up to the sound of knocking outside his door. His head was pounding, maybe it was because the knocking had been going on for so long that he couldn’t ignore it anymore. Freddie never bothered to knock, John would just knock once out of faux politeness and come in anyway, so that could only be one person.

“Good lord, just come in,” he called out. He wondered why Brian wanted to see him at this time. Brian got his car back yesterday, there was no need for Roger to be his chauffeur anymore.

Brian immediately opened the door and entered, a black silhouette in the darkness beside the bed. “Rog, look at this.” He pressed a piece of paper to Roger’s face. It was all blurry, though, and Roger’s brain was frozen - the knocking was still echoing inside.

“W-wait. What. What time is it. What’s this. Bri, I can’t see.”

“Half past six. And it’s a parking ticket. Look!” Brian said impatiently.

Something about the parking ticket sounded familiar. “Good lord. Another?”

“No, it’s not. Not a real one. I don’t know. Take a look, please.”

Roger blinked and sat up dazedly, pushing the sheets aside. Only then did it hit him. Oh God, he had forgotten all about this, the reason why he had sneaked out of the house at one o’clock the previous night. It was a regular parking ticket which was addressed to “Penguin” and said, “Baby you can drive my car, and maybe you’ll love me.” The handwriting, of course, wasn’t Roger’s, it belonged to the meter maid he had seen near Imperial one day when he was waiting for Brian, whom he had asked for a ticket to write his note on. She was rather impressed at his creativity and had happily written the note for him.

“This was stuck on the windshield,” Brian explained. “Maybe it really is the meter maid.”

Roger stifled a yawn. “Maybe. I don’t care. It’s too early for this.”

Brian’s face fell. “Gosh, you’re right. Sorry for waking you. I was just so excited. Uhm, I’d better get going. Get back to sleep, then.”

Roger rolled over and pressed his face to the pillow, not bothering to reply. Brian exited and closed the door softly. However, he couldn’t go back to sleep. He was now wide awake, realizing that he actually preferred to sleep in the front seat of his car with Brian by his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is all I have written up to this point. I'll update when I write more, but probably not any time soon, sorry. Hope you enjoyed the story so far!


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